


All I Want for Christmas

by alinaandalion



Category: Leverage
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 07:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alinaandalion/pseuds/alinaandalion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But if there aren't presents or a tree, then it's not Christmas."  Eliot shows Parker that there is someone who understands her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want for Christmas

Parker loves Christmas.  Even as an adult, she is fully convinced it is the one time a year that magic can happen, what with all the happy music, the snow, and the _presents._   So after a completely disappointing Christmas last year, she is determined to enjoy this one.  
  
It only takes a little help from Tara to wrangle Eliot and Hardison into sticking around the bar for the annual Christmas party (Parker doesn’t even bother with Nate because last time she checked, his breath reeked of alcohol, and he’s kind of a Grinch anyway).  And it’s the perfect weather outside, full of flurries but not so bad that anyone is stranded at the bar.  
  
Leaning over Tara, Parker grabs two full glasses of eggnog and passes one to Eliot.  “Do you think Nate would notice if we put a tree up in his apartment?”  
  
Eliot glares at her, and Parker stares back patiently.  Eliot is always grumpy, especially when she pokes at his new bruises to check if they still hurt.  (Secretly, she’s keeping track of if he’s turning into a superhero; Hardison insists it’s not possible, but Parker has collected some convincing evidence for the possibility.)  
  
He shakes his head and glances back at one of the muted televisions.  “Yeah, Parker, I’m pretty sure he would notice.”  
  
“But where are we going to put the presents?” Parker asks because she _knows_ that presents need a tree to sit under.  Otherwise, it’s not _Christmas_ , it’s just a random day where you get stuff.  
  
“Presents?” Hardison perks up on the other side of Eliot.  “I didn’t know we were doing a whole gift-exchange thing.”  
  
“We’re not,” Eliot growls, and he gulps down half his eggnog.  
  
“But if there aren’t presents or a tree, then it’s not Christmas,” Parker says insistently, gripping her glass tightly.  
  
“That’s not really how it works, mama,” Hardison replies with a slight smile.  
  
Huffing, Parker turns to Eliot with wide eyes.  He frowns, but after a moment, he shifts in his chair and digs his wallet out of his back pocket, flipping it open and pulling out a huge stack of cash.  
  
“Merry Christmas, Parker,” Eliot mutters as he gets to his feet and disappears into the crowd.  
  
Parker traces her fingers along the green bills.  There’s something odd about them, different from the money she can normally find in Eliot’s wallet.  The edges are crisp, the ink stark and fresh.  It hits her:  every bill is _new._   She lifts the stack to her nose, sniffs it carefully.  Then she grins and puts it all carefully down inside her boot before plunging into the crowd to find Eliot.  
  
He’s standing in a dim corner, arms crossed over his chest, watching her with slightly amused blue eyes.  She smiles a little shyly and approaches him directly.  
  
“You did get me a present,” Parker accuses.  
  
“It’s Christmas,” he says with a shrug.  
  
She catches a glimpse of green leaves tied with red ribbon over his head, and she grins, taking a step closer.  
  
“You’re standing under mistletoe,” she tells him quietly.  
  
“Am I?”  Eliot glances up and sighs.  “Guess so.”  
  
Parker edges forward until she can touch him if she wants.  She traces a light hand over his arm and to his neck, moving with purpose as she gathers her courage.  
  
She’s the one who kisses him, mouth hesitant and almost trembling at the idea of actually doing something like this.  Eliot is the one who holds her close to his chest, lips moving over hers gently, a hand tangling in her loose hair.  Something swells inside her, warmth and light and a slight thought that this is _safety_ , this is _home_ , _special…real_.  
  
Pulling back just a little, Eliot kisses the tip of her nose and murmurs, “Merry Christmas, Parker.”


End file.
